Washington's Baristas
by athenasdragon
Summary: A small group of former Starbucks employees, led by George Washington, breaks away to start their own indie coffee shop. Thus begins a tale of dedication and industrial espionage. Coffee shop!AU and modern!AU, no ships except Ben's hero worship.


**A/N: This was so fun to write oh my god I have no regrets. JUMPING RIGHT INTO YET ANOTHER FANDOM WITH SOME CRACK.**

 **A small group of former Starbucks employees, led by George Washington, breaks away to start their own indie coffee shop.**

* * *

"It's madness! We should be able to serve whatever we want to meet demand, not have our menu dictated by some distant CEO." Washington banged his fist on the table and the men around him nodded. "It's time that we take a stand and break away."

Ben stood in the corner of the back room, watching the proceedings proudly. He had always put his all into this job—of course he had, he was a model employee—but he too was chafing under the harness of the corporate giant. He may not have been a key player in Washington's little rebellion but damned if he wasn't going to take part and jump ship as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

So absorbed was he in his admiration for his manager that he didn't notice when the meeting adjourned and the other employees scattered to open the shop for the day—or when Washington approached him. "What do you think, Ben?"

"I, um, I agree with you entirely," Ben stammered. "I think it's high time we take a stand against Starbucks."

Washington smiled. "So you'll come work at the new shop?"

"Of course!"

"Excellent. I was hoping you might agree to be a supervisor."

Ben gaped. He couldn't quite believe that this courageous, commanding man even knew who he was, much less wanted to offer him a position at his revolutionary new coffee shop. "Really? I'd love to!"

"Great. I'm hoping to get things set up in the next couple of months or so. I'll let you know."

Ben could only smile as Washington put on his green apron and strode away to start the espresso machine.

* * *

Washington's coffee shop opened just in time for the Fourth of July. Continental Coffee, just a block or so from the Starbucks its employees had deserted, was fastidiously festooned with patriotic crepe paper and window decals of fireworks and American flags.

Ben had stayed well after hours for a few days to get it ready, but Washington's approving smile made it completely worth it. He had also helped to find a friend, Caleb Brewster, to supply responsibly-sourced coffee beans.

The community was invited to attend a party the night before Continental opened. At dusk, Ben and the other employees threw open the doors to spill yellow light and soft music into the still-warm streets. The lure of a free cup of coffee attracted people like moths and they perched happily on the wrought iron chairs on the sidewalk, laughing and gossiping and praising the ownership.

Ben recognized Anna, whose husband had been laid off from Starbucks and had left town to find other work. She was hard-up, he knew, but much too proud to accept any help from her friends. Instead, she was bar tending at Mr. deJong's local place.

Seated next to her was Abe. He and Ben had gone to school together years ago but they hadn't spoken in a while. Ben was a little surprised Abe had come since his father was a loud-spoken investor in Starbucks and had voiced his disapproval for Washington's little enterprise.

When the crowd had died down and he could afford to sit for a minute, Ben found his friends again and greeted them warmly. He wasn't too surprised to see that Caleb had shown up to enjoy the fruits of his labor and was already seated with Anna and Abe.

"Well, how do you think the place is going to do?" Anna asked once pleasantries had been exchanged. "I mean, I have every faith in Washington, but it's so close to the Starbucks. Won't you have trouble with competition?"

"I don't think so," Ben mused. Anticipatory fireworks crackled somewhere in the distance like dry summer lightning. He looked over his shoulder to where Washington leaned against the counter, conversing with a few friends and employees. "We've got something special here. There's no way they can compete with that."

* * *

A few months into business, things were going badly.

Ben rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn every morning and went to open the shop. Sometimes he found that Washington would already be there, tying on his navy and white apron and starting up the various brass-tubed machines, but other days he was met by the perfect serene silence of the empty shop. These mornings he could set the radio to whatever he wanted as he brought the chairs down from the tables and swept up whatever dust had accumulated overnight.

If he was the first one there, he was also the last to leave, unloading the final round of dishes from the washer before he switched off the lights and locked up.

Despite his dedication and that of the other employees, they were barely keeping afloat. The indie novelty of Continental Coffee wore off quickly, it seemed, and most of their customers returned to their usual overcomplicated drinks within a few weeks.

Abe slipped in when he thought he could get away with it, bringing stories of the new management Starbucks had brought in to replace Washington and the others. There was Hewlett, the iron-fisted but generally incompetent manager, and Simcoe, the creepy supervisor who seemed intent on sabotaging Continental once and for all. There were even whispers of a lawyer, Robert Rogers, who had been set on the war path to pull the place under, but so far nothing had come of it.

In thanks for this intelligence, Ben turned a blind eye when Abe used the shop as a meeting place with Anna. Her husband was a good man, Ben knew, but then it wasn't really his business to go meddling in his friends' affairs. Besides, Anna was kind enough to spend a part of her minimal wages on a cup of coffee whenever she was in, and Ben didn't quite have it in him to turn her away after that.

The fact remained that the shop was in danger of slipping under, even without the often aggressive advertising aimed at them from the Starbucks down the street. The other employees were clearly flagging; some even defected back to their original employer, begging for their old job back in return for intelligence on Continental's inner workings.

As disgusted as he was by their behavior, even Ben felt his enthusiasm wavering. If it wasn't for the fact that Washington plowed fearlessly ahead he might have given up.

It was fortunate he didn't, for an opportunity presented itself just a few days later. Ben was on his afternoon break and happened to glance into the Starbucks when he saw none other than Abe being led around my Hewlett. Unless he was wearing a green apron for a completely unrelated reason, his friend had just landed a job with the enemy.

Washington was reluctant to listen to Ben, always the honorable one, but even he admitted that something had to be done.

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?"

"Just pick up a couple of extra weekend shifts at the Continental! It pays well, you can see Anna all the time…"

Abe crossed his arms and glared at Ben. "You do realize you're asking me to spy on my employers? I could get fired for this! My father would disown me!"

"Come on, Abe," Ben hissed, drawing him farther behind the counter and away from customers' ears. "We'll put a different name on your name tag and everything. Something mysterious, like… Sam Culpepper."

"That's a terrible name."

Ben rolled his eyes. "That's not the point! The point is that we're trying to take a stand against big businesses here, Abe, and we're failing. What kind of message does that send? We have to do something!"

After a few seconds of silent thought, Abe sighed heavily. "Culper."

"What?"

"Culpepper sounds like something from a dime mystery novel. It's Culper on the name tag, or else I'm out."

Ben beamed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "That's the Abe I know!"

"It's the Sam you know," Abe parried drily, earning a laugh from his friend.

"It looks like we're back in business, A—Sam. I just know that this is exactly what Continental needs."


End file.
